


Dizzy On Dreams

by stelleappese



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:18:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4361132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stelleappese/pseuds/stelleappese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon decides it's about time he learns a thing or two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dizzy On Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Well, the Wu/Masrani scene was one of the things I like the most about JW, and I'm a perv, so, really, this was gonna happen sooner or later :P

“You”, murmurs Henry, with a little smirk, “Have _absolutely no idea_  what you’re doing, do you?”

It started snowing on their way back to Simon’s penthouse. They took a walk from the restaurant, Simon feeling weirdly detached from reality, as if walking in a dream. It was probably, he guesses, because everything was so perfect it felt unreal.  
Henry was walking next to him, snowflakes trapped in his hair, melting on his shoulders. He looked tiny, as unreachable as ever, but he linked his arm underneath Simon’s while they were waiting to cross the street, he leaned into him, and Simon’s heart jumped in his throat.

He doesn’t know what about Henry makes him feel so… helpless. He’s worked with extremely intelligent people for all his life, and though he’s fascinated by what goes on inside Henry’s brain, he’s almost positive that’s not all there is to it.  
Maybe it’s the way he looks at him, dark eyes studying his every move, lips curling in that mischievous little smile of his in the most unexpected moments. Maybe Simon just wants to know what makes him tick.

The bedroom is in the corner of the penthouse, two walls of it are filled with orderly, big, simple-looking windows. The only light still on is the one on the bedside table, glowing orange and weak, and the deeper, blood-red one from the dying coals in the fireplace. Outside, New York is shining at their feet; it’s like the world turned upside down, and the stars are shining below them.

Henry is sprawled on the bed underneath Simon, on top of the fluffy blankets, head resting on one of the several pillows scattered around. He showered before Simon, just strolled towards the bathroom like he owned the place. He might be shameless in bed, but he’s not very good at any other kind of intimacy; he doesn’t sleep over, he doesn’t cuddle, he doesn’t shower with Simon. Simon, ever the optimist, likes to think they’ll get there eventually.

The only thing Henry’s wearing is a sweater, because he was feeling cold while he waited for Simon to get out of the shower. Simon could look at him forever, dark hair and dark eyes contrasting with the white all around, the pillows, the blankets, Henry’s sweater. It’s a large sweater, the sleeves are too long, and Henry is instinctively closing his fists around the extra tissue. The neckline is large enough that Simon can see the pretty line of Henry’s collarbones, it slopes on one side, one of his shoulders is almost completely naked.

“I’ve read a book”, mutters Simon, distractedly, eyes trailing down.  
Henry laughs at that. He folds a leg up, his naked thigh pressing against Simon’s side, slowly brushing against him. He looks so comfortable like that, with his legs spread, completely exposed to Simon. Simon crawls back a little, he wonders whether he should maybe kneel on the floor, pull him closer, whether that would be more comfortable.  
“What did the book say?”, asks Henry, in that soft, sweet, teasing tone of his, “‘Stare at your lover and will him to get hard’?”

Simon grunts. He crouches down, puts his hands against Henry’s thighs and pushes his legs up. It takes a bit of maneuvering, and Henry isn’t being helpful at all, but he finally finds a position that’s comfortable enough. He’s holding one of Henry’s legs up, while the other’s hooked over his shoulder. He can feel Henry’s eyes on him, amused and curious, and he tries not to blush as he wraps his fingers around Henry’s soft cock and squeezes a little, just to give himself courage.

He’s never done this before. _Hell_ , before Henry, he’s never even _thought_  about trying to have sex with a man. And it’s not like they’ve never done it before, but this isn’t exactly how it usually goes. Usually, it’s Henry pressing Simon down on the mattress, pinning his wrists above his head, riding him good and hard. Simon doesn’t mind; he likes how bossy Henry is, he likes the way his body moves when he rolls his hips and fucks himself on Simon’s cock, he likes how pretty the line of his jaw is seen from below, how his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he throws his head back and screws his eyes shut. And he likes when he’s almost there, so very close, and he presses himself down against Simon’s body so that he can get some friction, rub his cock against Simon’s stomach while he’s still riding him; he likes the look on Henry’s face right that moment, so open and determined and _eager_.

But Simon is a curious man, and he’s always up for a challenge, and when Henry teased him about it, well, there was no other way this could have turned out.

He presses a kiss against the sensitive skin of Henry’s inner thigh, presses his open mouth to it while he jerks him off, he sucks and bites softly, and Henry chuckles above him. Simon doesn’t investigate what’s so funny to Henry. Instead, he turns his head and presses a similar sloppy kiss against Henry’s balls.  
That, Henry wasn’t expecting, for some reason. Simon can see it on his face when he looks down at him, perching up on his elbows, head tilted a little, dark eyes curious. Simon sucks, his tongue pressing to Henry’s skin, and Henry’s expression doesn’t quite change, but Henry breathes in deeply, he blinks at him, pretty lips pressed together a bit tighter than usual.

And his face might not let on a lot, but he _is_  getting hard. Simon isn’t sure whether it’s because he’s doing a good job, or because Henry just likes looking down at him while he’s busy between his legs.  
Either way, there’s no time to celebrate. Simon runs his tongue flat on the underside of Henry’s cock, and something shines inside Henry’s eyes. He smirks at Simon, bites his lower lip like he always does when he needs to persuade Simon to do something he wants him to do, and Simon’s stomach makes a little happy somersault. He wraps his lips around the tip of Henry’s cock, takes it in his mouth, slowly, sucking it in, trying not to let his teeth touch Henry’s skin.

It definitely lacks finesse, and Simon had _no idea_  this would be so hard to do, but he’s determined to prove himself he _can_  do it, and there’s nothing he would love more than being the one to make Henry writhe and moan, for once. Henry still looks calm enough, but he is fully hard now, and his eyes are warmer, softer, as Simon twirls his tongue against the head of his cock and start jerking him off again. He hums around Henry’s cock, and Henry’s breath hiccups a little. It’s a tiny thing, his eyes growing heavier, his mouth falling open for a fraction of a second, but it’s all Simon needs.

He sits up, Henry’s cock plopping back against Henry’s pale stomach. The way Henry looks at him, almost like he’s a bit scared Simon will get up and walk away, leaving him hard and horny, makes Simon _extremely_  happy.  
“Why did you stop?”, asks Henry, flopping back down against the pillows.  
“You’ll see”, murmurs Simon, grabbing the lube from the bedside table.   
“Are you going to fuck me?”, shrugs Henry, looking a bit disappointed.  
“Not yet”, grins Simon, and Henry suddenly looks interested in what’s going on again.  
“Oh”, he murmurs.

Simon looks at him for a moment, he stops as he’s about to pour lube on his fingers.   
“Wait here a second”, he says, and gets off the bed. It just takes him a moment to find the silk scarf he needs, and when he turns back towards Henry he’s looking at him, lazily running his fingers against his stomach, as if trying to find something to do that won’t involve him touching himself and spoiling all the fun.  
“Sit up”, says Simon, and Henry does. The line of his neck, the point where it meets his shoulder, looks so delicious Simon wants to bite, but he restrains himself. He ties the scarf around Henry’s head, blindfolding him with it.  
“Is it too tight?”  
“It’s all right.”  
“Can you see anything?”  
“Nope”, says Henry, cheerfully. His mouth looks very pretty when he does that.   
“Lie down”, orders Simon, and Henry lets himself fall back again. This time, he folds both his legs up, spreading them apart, pushing his hips up a little, inviting.

Simon _did_  read a book. He actually read more than one, and several anonymous online stories, and watched some very explicit videos. He’s pretty sure he’s prepared enough, but this is still all new to him, and when he pours lube on his fingers and rubs it against Henry’s hole, when he presses the pad of his finger against it, he’s still surprised at the resistance his body offers to the intrusion, and when he finally slips it in, he’s surprised at how _tight_  it is.  
He takes his time, Simon. He works Henry open slowly, makes sure he’s using enough lube, once he’s got two fingers inside him he spreads them open and carefully pulls them halfway out, then in again.  
“I don’t need all this”, murmurs Henry, his voice dreamy, “You can fuck me now.”  
“Patience”, says Simon.

The books said that it would be easier like this, doing it with your fingers. So once Henry’s slicked and open enough, Simon bites his lips and curls his fingers a little. Henry sighs, he pushes his hips up, impatiently, but Simon ignores him. He explores gingerly and carefully, and when he finally feels the spot he needs beneath his fingertips, he doesn’t even have time to realize it, because Henry’s body jerks a little, like he’s flinching, and he presses his head back against the pillow and moans, a tiny, chocked moan, because he obviously wasn’t expecting whatever it was he’s just felt.  
“All right”, whispers Simon, to himself, and he gets back to work again. He makes sure he doesn’t touch the spot again, not outright, he forks his fingers and rubs them on its sides, he circles around it, and Henry starts breathing heavily, he starts squirming beneath him, head pressed against the pillow, biting down on his lower lip to keep himself from making any sound; but he can’t help humming, he can’t help moaning and gasping sharply, he can’t help clinging to the covers and arching his back.

Just a bit more, decides Simon, a tiny little bit more.  
He leans down, licks at Henry’s throat, finally presses his mouth against his neck, teeth scraping against Henry’s skin, he sucks and licks at it, and Henry stops trying to be quiet. All the little sounds he makes, all the urgent, high-pitched little noises, they go straight to Simon’s cock; he pants and whines and moans, he sounds _so good_ , Simon almost loses his focus.  
“Please!”, Henry finally cries out, like Simon’s tearing the word out of his throat, “ _Fuck_ , please, Simon, please…!”  
“Do you want me to fuck you?”, whispers Simon, against Henry’s ear.  
“Yes! Please, yes, please…!”  
Simon scrambles up; he presses his mouth against Henry’s, and Henry moans against his lips, he pushes his tongue inside Simon’s mouth and kisses him with an eagerness, a desperation that Simon never felt in him before. He whispers yet another ‘please’ against Simon’s lips, a shaky one, almost begging, and Simon feels a shiver running down his spine.

When Simon finally guides his cock inside Henry, there’s a split of a second in which everything is quiet, just Henry taking in a quivering breath; and he feels so good, he feels so tight and warm and _right_ , there’s something like relief washing through Simon. Then Henry wraps his legs around Simon’s waist, he wraps his arms around him, fingernails digging into his back; he lets out what sounds like a sob, and when Simon thrusts into him again he arches his back and cries out. And it’s so weird, how vocal he’s being, how he keeps murmuring and moaning; Simon had planned to be patient through this, to make sure he took care of Henry, but he can’t help himself when he rolls his hips against him, pushing deeper inside him, when he blindly grabs the headrest of the bed for leverage and slams into him. He can’t see Henry’s eyes, still hidden by the silk scarf, but he can see the way his eyebrows are drawn together, he can see his pretty mouth, red and wet and swollen from Simon’s kiss and Henry’s constant biting, he sees it fall open but no sound comes out for a moment, then Henry sighs deeply. He reaches down, Henry, a hand tentatively grabbing Simon’s ass, spurring him on, he goes quiet for a second, as if concentrating, then finally curls up against Simon and screams, bucking his hips to meet Simon’s thrusts, his body contracting around Simon’s cock.

And then he suddenly relaxes. He starts shaking as soon as he does that, his chest rising and falling quickly, his breath fast and uneven.  
“Are you all right?”, asks Simon, going still. He presses a kiss behind Henry’s ear, then to his jaw, then to his cheek. Henry nods, then he whispers a soft ‘yes’.  
“You can keep going”, he murmurs, his voice tight, “If you do it gently.”  
“Do you want me to?”, whispers Simon, kissing Henry’s lips, and for a moment he gets lost doing that, just their lips brushing together, just Henry’s tongue delicately licking at Simon’s mouth.  
“Yes”, answers Henry. So Simon obeys.  
He knows, thanks to his books and internet posts and videos, that some people find it painful, having their prostate played with after they’ve already come, so he makes sure he doesn’t push in too deep. And Henry, oh, he can’t believe it, but Henry’s holding him so tight, soft lips planting kisses against Simon’s skin, against his shoulder and neck and throat, he’s curling up against him and sighing against the crook of Simon’s neck; and when Simon comes, resorting to all his self control not to be too rough, not to forget himself, Henry makes such a sweet, lovely little noise, gentler than a moan, a bit more throaty, and Simon slowly pushes his cock all the way inside him one last time and keeps it there as he catches his breath, wishing he could stay like this forever.

Henry’s still shaking, his body twitches a little when Simon pulls out. He doesn’t move until Simon leans in and slips the blindfold off, and even then he keeps his eyes closed for a moment longer, then opens them, blinks a couple of time, and smiles at him.  
He squints when he smiles, thin wrinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. He doesn’t do it often, not like this. When Henry smiles, his eyes usually stay cold. But right now, right now there’s nothing cold about them. Henry’s face is flushed, he’s all sweaty, the marks left by Simon’s teeth and kisses getting darker against his pale skin. Simon tugs at the hem of Henry’s sweater, and Henry meekly raises his arms to let him slide it off of him. He raises his hands to cup Simon’s face when he leans in for a deep, slow, intense kiss. When Simon breaks the kiss, Henry scrapes his teeth against his lower lip and grins at him, his usual mischievousness back in its rightful place.  
“You need to lend me that book”, he murmurs. Simon chuckles.

“If I go fill the tub”, whispers Simon, hopefully, “Will you take a bath with me?”  
Henry hums, mollified. He’s snuggled pretty close to Simon, hasn’t moved away yet. Simon takes it as a good sign.  
“Ok”, shrugs Henry. Simon smiles brightly, he squeezes Henry in a brief but tight hug, then gets out of bed.  
“When we’re done”, says Henry, getting comfortable on the bed and closing his eyes, “I could use some pancakes. I’m starving.”

The snow is still falling. From the huge windows in the bathroom, Simon can see cars swarm in the streets like a luminescent river. He wonders if it will be different, the next time they see each other. It could be in a week, it could be in six months. Their jobs really don’t leave a lot of time for recreational activities. He wonders if it’s New York that makes Henry so relaxed, if being at the park, with his job so close, is what distracts him when they meet there. If the park is the problem, he’ll need to organize weekend getaways. He could take him to Europe. Or since he’s currently living in Central America, he could easily drop by and steal him for a quick vacation somewhere closer. If he likes the snow, he can bring him to his skiing cabin in Argentina…

He gets distracted when Henry walks in the bathroom, looking at him curiously, maybe wondering what’s taking him so long, and he knows exactly where he wants to take him. He wants to take him home. He wants to take him to India, introduce him to his family, he wishes _so hard_  he could have met him before his father died, because he would have loved him, he would have been so impressed by how smart Henry is. He wants to bring him to his mother and tell her ‘yes, he’s mine’.  
“Come here”, murmurs Simon, and Henry walks up to him. He’s sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Simon, he wraps an arm around Henry, pulls him closer, rests his head against him. Henry leans into him and combs his hair with his fingers. Together, silently but without stopping touching each other for a moment, they watch as the water fills the bathtub. From the way he’s leaning into him, Simon can hear Henry’s heart beat evenly.

They end up stepping outside at three in the morning, the concierge giving them a sleepy, suspicious look as they walk through the hall.  
The snow is stronger now, Simon watches as it twirls outside the diner’s window, illuminated by the cone of light projected by the streetlight nearby. Henry pours a generous amount of maple syrup on his pancakes, and Simon grins as he looks at him. It just feels weird, to him, seeing him in such a mundane situation. The notorious Doctor Henry Wu, scientist, innovator, creator, visionary. He’s always so composed and distant; even the way they have sex, most of the time, fits into his methodical, controlling personality. Most of the time…

“Do you really have to go back tomorrow?”, asks Simon, impulsively, “I can fly you over with my private jet, you’d be only late one day…”  
“I’m afraid I can’t”, says Henry, licking syrup off his lips, “The velociraptors are about to hatch; I need to be there and supervise the imprinting…”  
“Right”, murmurs Simon, “I forgot about that…”   
Henry looks up at him for a moment, and he looks almost mellowed by the disappointment in Simon’s voice, almost sorry. “You could come with me”, he offers, “You said you need to be in Abu Dhabi in two weeks, didn’t you? You could spend some time at the park, instead of New York, and leave from Costa Rica in a few days. The weather is definitely nicer…”  
He stops talking when he sees Simon staring, he even _blushes_  a little.   
“Wouldn’t I distract you?”, says Simon, “I would be like a lost puppy always following you around.”  
“I don’t mind”, mumbles Henry, a bit grumpily, cutting a piece of pancake and dipping it in the syrup pooling in the plate.   
Simon wraps his hands around his cup of hot cocoa and smiles like an idiot.

They’re outside the building where Simon’s penthouse is when Simon grabs Henry’s waist and holds him close, just to feel him there for a moment. He likes that Henry’s so tiny, and from what he can tell, Henry doesn’t mind the height difference either.   
“People could see us”, whispers Henry. Simon lets him go a little, just enough to be able to look at him.  
“Do you mind?”, he asks, “That people see us? Because I don’t care.”  
“People would talk”, shrugs Henry, “I don’t like pointless talk.”  
“I’ll do the talking, if the need arises”, offers Simon, pressing his forehead to Henry’s, “I’ll make sure they don’t bother you.”  
“You really want to do this?”, frowns Henry, surprised.  
Simon shrugs, “I don’t see why we shouldn’t.”  
Though he does see why. Maybe Henry doesn’t think this is important enough to be worth the inevitable talk. Maybe Simon is going too fast…  
“All right”, murmurs Henry, nodding slowly, “All right.”  
Simon smirks, he tries to kiss him, but Henry moves away. “Wait a moment”, he says, and steps on the first step of the short stair leading to the building. Even then, he’s still shorter then Simon, but tall enough that he doesn’t need to get on the tip of his toes when he wraps his arms around Simon’s neck and kisses him.


End file.
